into the light of the dark black night
Ratdog was in town last night. Well, "town" being not quite the right word, they were at the Jerry Garcia birthday bash at Sunshine Daydream out near Terra Alta. Ratdog, Bob Weir's band, is about the only Dead remnant band touring this summer, and this was the kickoff show of the tour. It's a bit pricey to go ($115), and I'm just not up for a camping fest these hot sticky days.
|Weather:||70, extremely humid|
But I found a setlist for at least the first set this morning on the net, first out of the chute Blackbird. Was it the Beatles tune?
Maybe so. Maybe they sang it as a goodbye for my little blackbird who died last night. The birdie and I had a lovely beer night with my pals last evening, ate some great food, drank some refreshing Corona, desserted on fresh blackberry shortcake (thanks to Jolene), and as always grooved on some comradery. A little bitching about W, a little tech talk, catching up about old beer night buds who moved away. I hooked up briefly with my buddy E who liberated a little Melomel, great honey wine made by the old Hungarian in Upshur County who passed away this year. The birdie came with me, hung out in a box, then sat in my hand for a while, then on my shirt. He ate a little bit, drank a little water, mostly just chilled out. We kept him safe from Dan and Linde's cats, though it was torture for Mojo.
When I got home I put birdie in his box in the kitchen, put a splatter screen over it, weighed it down with a porcelein colander, said goodnight, and watched a little Ali before I went to bed myself. This morning as soon as I pried my eyeballs open, I went into the kitchen to check on him and he was lying feet up in the box.
He was a Chimney Swift, dark gray brown black with a lighter colored belly, very short beak, long narrow wings, and little barbs at the end of his tail feathers. Very groovy little bird who found me because he knew I'd give him some good hospice care on his way out. Bye little birdie.
posted by cat 8:47 AM